


Ponytale

by bjbookcase



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 05:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13159980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjbookcase/pseuds/bjbookcase
Summary: You thought Janeway cut her hair on a whim?





	Ponytale

_**Prologue** :_

_Sensors registered it as no more than an area of strong turbulence, the kind routinely experienced by atmospheric craft. There was no warning when its shifting winds suddenly jumped to cyclonic force and then right off the scales quicker than even the inertial dampeners could compensate. Overloading, the dampeners automatically began pulling power from other systems, setting off a cacophony of alarms and warnings._

_And then the world lit up like a super nova._

_With a front row seat at the Calypso’s forward view ports, Chakotay saw the shuttle’s shields coruscating in a light show rivaling even the most brilliant aurora borealis. Designed to bleed off high level energy discharges, this time the shields couldn’t quite fully neutralize the intensity of the lightning bolt that hit them. All three crew members pushed away from their workstations, throwing their arms up to shield their faces as power discharges arced and crackled across the instrument panels._

_Then, as suddenly as chaos had hit, calm returned._

_“Damage report,” Chakotay barked._

_“Power to main systems down sixty percent and still dropping,” Samantha Wildman called out from operations. “Trying to access back up power, but I’m having to reroute control. That bolt of energy really scrambled computer functions.”_

_“A manual reroute would be faster… through the access ports under the console,” interjected Kathryn Janeway. She started to rise from her science station. “It will-“_

_Anticipating her actions, Chakotay ordered, “Remain at your post, Janeway. The last place anyone needs to be right now is inside an access port. Wildman, do the best you can from the control panel. And stay alert for anymore power discharges._

_“Janeway, I need you focused on sensors… what sensors we have. I’d prefer to avoid anymore of these atmospheric disturbances.” Struggling with the shuttle’s sluggish navigational controls, he added, “Any chance of finding someplace where we can set down this bird if worse comes to worse?”_

_“Emergency landing contingencies, I presume?”_

_Grateful she hadn’t balked at his reprimand, or the snapped commands that followed, Chakotay answered her gibe with humor. “You have to ask?”_

_For the next several minutes, the only sounds in the shuttle were the soft beeps of accessed controls, the sharper taps, clicks and scraps of repairs, and the grunts and muttered grumbling of the three crew members. Intent on their tasks, all were caught by surprise when the shuttle literally fell out from under them._

_“What the-” Having barely managed to remain in his seat, Chakotay wrapped his legs around the base of his chair and fought to regain control of the shuttle which was bucking and twisting like a unbroken Skellian eququad. “How the hell did sensors miss that?”_

_“Between the magnetic interference and the fluctuating power, we have more blind spots than the Ferengi have Rules of Acquisition. You’re lucky I can still tell you where the planet is, Commander,” Janeway snapped, tension momentarily getting the best of her. Taking a deep breath, she went on, “Things should improve when Samantha gets the reroute completed. How’s it going, Sa-“_

_Hearing Janeway’s alarmed “Samantha!”, concern overrode caution. Craning his head around, Chakotay saw her already on the move, working her way handhold by white-knuckled handhold towards Wildman’s station. He couldn’t see Wildman._

_“Kathryn, what-“_

_She turned, her determination evident even across the interior of the tossing shuttle. “Wildman’s down, Commander… and the reroute isn’t complete. If there’s a chance in hell of us reaching those coordinates I sent to your console, I need to finish it.”_

_He knew what she wasn’t saying. He also knew there really weren’t any other options. “Then the sooner the better, I’d say,” he told her, giving her a quick, dimpled smile before she disappeared under the operations console. “At least there wasn’t any lightning this time.”_

_Five minutes later, he would eat those words._

_By then, Wildman had joined Janeway at operations; her tumble when the shuttle hit the second pocket of turbulence only momentarily stunning her. Seeing the other woman struggling to maintain her position in the console’s access port and keep the tools she needed from bouncing away, Wildman positioned herself as a human wedge, giving Janeway something to brace against. The tools she gathered into her lap, handing them to Janeway as needed. With the two of them working together, the reroute proceeded rapidly despite the continued yaw and pitch of the shuttle._

_“Got it!” Janeway grunted in triumph. “Try auxiliary power now, Chakotay,” she called, remaining inside the port in the event a little tweaking was needed. “How’s-“_

_An enormous concussion shook the shuttle like a rat caught in a terrier’s teeth. Stressed metal groaned and screeched as if it were being wrenched and twisted in some giant vise, drowning out the groans and cries of the Calypso’s occupants as their world exploded in a brilliant flash of white._

* * *

“There, that should help.” Samantha Wildman tied off the final band of cloth she had been winding tightly around her companion’s leg. One of several strips torn from Chakotay’s turtleneck, the cloth formed a crude bandage over the deep gash on Kathryn Janeway’s thigh. It was makeshift treatment at best, but it was the best they could do with the materials at hand.

“Thank you, Samantha. It feels better already,” the injured woman said, trying to match a cheery smile to her words. Easing back against the rounded, granite boulder behind her, she closed her eyes and let out a long, soft sigh. Outwardly, she looked as if she were resting, soaking up the residual heat from the rock.

Wildman wasn’t fooled for a minute. Janeway’s pallid coloring and the tight lines around her mouth were hard to miss. The woman was in pain and keeping her from going into shock was going to be a challenge. Getting her dry and warm would definitely improve their chances. The warmth coming from the sun-baked rock and sand was helping for now, but, with the day nearly gone, they needed shelter and a fire. Raising a hand to shade her eyes, Wildman scanned the lakeshore for Commander Chakotay.

She spotted him near the spot where they’d struggled ashore, standing at the water’s edge, waves lapping at his feet. Slung over one bronzed shoulder was a red bundle of what appeared to be firewood. That was one necessity down; hopefully, the second part of his foray had been as successful.

But why was he just standing there?

Reaching out, Wildman gently touched Janeway’s arm, waiting until the other woman’s eyes fluttered open. “I’m going to help the commander with the firewood he’s gathered,” she told her. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.” There was the slightest nod of Janeway’s head before her pain-limned blue eyes slipped shut again. _Not a good sign_ , thought Wildman as she rose to her feet and headed for the commander.

Sensing her approach, Chakotay glanced around, concern clouding his handsome features. “How is she, Sam?”

“I’ve managed to staunch the bleeding, but she’s in a lot of pain… even if she won’t admit it.” They shared a quick smile at Kathryn Janeway’s legendary stubbornness. “Keeping her from going into shock will be a lot easier once we have shelter and a fire,” Wildman added.

“Those will help, but what we really need is out there.” Gesturing, Chakotay turned back to the blue-green waters that nearly drowned them all just a short time before.

Sam followed his gaze to a tiny spot of color maybe three hundred meters from shore: the marker buoy automatically released when their shuttle sank. “Do you think that’s wise, Commander? We barely made it out the first time.”

“We were struggling to get Ka… the Captain out then.” He missed her smile at his slip. “This time, it will just be me.” He turned then, raising a hand to forestall the protest just forming on her lips. “I need you to keep an eye on our injured crew member, Ensign Wildman.”

Wildman nodded, but let her expression speak volumes. He knew as well as she did the other member of the team wouldn’t see rank as an acceptable excuse either.

Right now, however, there were more important issues. “I see you found firewood,” she said. “Did you have any luck locating any kind of shelter?”

Chakotay smiled and shifted his jacket full of dead branches to a more comfortable position on his shoulder. “Actually, I did… just a short distance back in the trees. Once I get a fire going, we can get dry and warm, and have a sheltered spot to spend the night. The front opening could stand to be more enclosed, but it’s too late for that today.” He gave Samantha a tired smile. “We all need a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow I’ll get the two of you started on that project while I see what I can retrieve from the shuttle.”

“Dead men make pretty lousy swimmers.”

Chakotay shot his companion a surprised look; he obviously wasn’t expecting that sort of comment from her. Then he shook his head and placed a large, brown hand on her shoulder. “She might not like it, Sam, but that doesn’t change what has to be done.” He leaned in, “Besides, discretion is the better part of valor. Right, Ensign?”

Faced with his sly wink and even more devious grin, Wildman couldn’t help but smile back. “What some people don’t know, can’t hurt us, Commander?”

“Something like that.” He motioned for Samantha to precede him. “So let’s not keep her waiting, Ensign.”

* * *

They accomplished the move to the shelter with a minimum of problems. Janeway, of course, insisted she could manage the walk without assistance and, seeing the stubborn set of her jaw, Chakotay didn’t argue. Rummaging through the wood he’d gathered, he found a sturdy stick just the right length. As he hoped, even Janeway pride knew its limits. Improvised cane firmly in hand, Kathryn tackled the short walk with the fierce determination he’d come to expect and admire. Only the sweat beading across her brow and the tight lines around her eyes gave any hint of her true condition, making him more determined than ever to return to the shuttle.

“Not bad, Commander,” she commented on seeing the site he picked. A giant among the large, fir-like trees growing around the lake had toppled, it’s lower portion coming to rest up against an outcropping of rocks. In the angle, formed by the massive, upended root system and the broad, slanting trunk, was a dry, snug little niche. “With the back of the area already protected by the rocks, if we add a few support branches, some evergreen boughs for covering, we’ll have a nice, cozy little shelter in no time at all,” Janeway added, unknowingly echoing his own assessment. She turned slowly, leaning heavily on her cane as she looked up at him. “Are you and Samantha up for a construction project?”

“We are… in the morning. The sun’s going to be dropping behind the trees shortly, so we probably only have a short period of dusk before full dark. For now, our best course of action is to concentrate on starting a fire and getting ourselves and our clothing dried out.”

Janeway glanced up at the orange and gold streaked sky, studying it for a moment before replying, “Sounds like a plan to me, Commander, but I hope you’ve been working on your fire-making skills.” Her free hand raked through the ragged remains of her once smooth, pony-tailed hairdo. “I think I’ve sacrificed enough hair for one day, don’t you?”

A vivid image of an unconscious Kathryn, her upper body and head singed and tangled in a web of sputtering, sparking wires flashed before Chakotay’s eyes. He was back in the sinking shuttle, struggling to free Kathryn as lake water seeped through the holes in the hull….

* * *

“Samantha?”

“She’s unconscious, Commander.”

“Can you get her out of there?”

Muffled thumps and bumps-and the occasional Ktarian swear word-reached the man in the pilot’s seat. “No go, Commander. She’s caught in the wiring somehow.”

“Damn that woman!” Chakotay cursed as he struggled to control the damaged shuttle. “I may kill her myself if we survive this landing.”

“You’re going to try landing?”

Chakotay spared a moment from his flying to give the blonde sciences officer a reassuring smile. “We don’t have a lot of choice in the matter, Ensign.” He inclined his head in the direction of the damaged bulkhead. “Even if I had altitude control, we can’t return to orbit with those holes in our side. I promise to make it as smooth as possible,” he added, deepening his dimpled smile before turning to face forward again, broad brown hands moving with steady deliberateness over his control panel. “Use the pads and blankets from the crew compartment to cushion her-and yourself-as best you can, Sam. You’ve got about two minutes. Let’s hope that body of water our crewman spotted before the sensors fried is really there… and as shallow as scans said it is.”

The water was there, but with little navigational control left, the landing proved a lot rougher that he would have liked. In the end, all he could do was hang on and ask the spirits to protect his crew as the shuttle hit the water, skipping like a stone across the surface until it suddenly skewed wildly, throwing him from the pilot’s chair. Darkness embraced him with the eagerness of a long, lost lover.

He woke some time later, sputtering as lake water sloshed against his face, his bruised body sprawled on the deck. Moving with care, he sat up, elbows on his knees as he rested his head in his hands, attempting to gather his shaken wits. _Holes in the bulkhead. Systems failing. Try for the lake. Rough landing-is the crew safe?_

Crew. Kathryn… and Samantha. Where were they? How were they?

Scrambling to his feet, Chakotay splashed through the water-rising water he suddenly realized-to the aft station where he’d last seen the two women. Spying a black-clad leg, he dropped to his knees and began tossing aside loose equipment and bedding. “Kathryn… Samantha… answer me.”

“We’re here, Commander.” It was Samantha speaking.

Shoving a last bunk pad out of the way, Chakotay helped the ensign move, revealing the limp body hidden beneath the operations’ console. An unconscious Kathryn Janeway sat slumped, her upper body wedged into the cramped work space behind an open access panel, tangled in a maze of sputtering wiring.

What caught his immediate attention, however, was the rapidly spreading red tinge to the water around one of her legs. That and the black cloth fibers caught on a jagged chunk of debris embedded in the floor beneath the console; debris blown from the bulkhead when the second lightning bolt hit.

Wildman saw it at the same time. “We need to at least slow that bleeding, Commander.”

Chakotay grabbed a blanket from the pile of bedding he’d tossed aside. Damn, the water was rising fast. _Need something to cut it… Tom’s birthday gift._ Slipping a hand into a pants pocket, the commander pulled out the red-handled Swiss army knife he’d tucked into his gear on a last minute impulse

Handing the blanket and knife to Wildman, he explained, “Cut this into strips to bandage her leg. I’m going to work on getting her free. The water’s coming in too fast… I doubt if we have more than a few minutes before the shuttle starts sinking. I’d like to be out of here before that.”

“What about the survival gear?”

“We’ll worry about that after we get Kathryn free.”

* * *

_And you got her free._

Freeing her arms and upper body from the tangle of wiring had been no problem. He could back her arms and body out the same way they had gone in, using one of the tools on the knife he retrieved from Samantha to snip the occasional wire that had fused itself to another, blocking retreat.

The problem was Kathryn’s hair. A large clump of auburn tresses was stuck to and snarled in the charred and melted wiring. With the water inside the shuttle already lapping against her chin, he’d had no choice.

So why had he felt so guilty? The loss of a little hair was nothing compared to the loss of a limb… or a life. Yet the feeling he was inflicting a grave injury had stuck with him as he cut her hair to free her.

It was a feeling that bothered him even now as he focused on what remained of Janeway’s usually immaculate hairdo. Until his wicked sense of humor took a closer look.

“You do look as if you’ve had a close encounter with a demented barber,” he told her with mock seriousness. “Perhaps, in the future, it would be wise to stay out of access ports during forced landings.”

“Forced landings, huh? Is that what we’re calling them nowadays?” Janeway shot back with a glare. Turning to Wildman, she asked, “Remind me, Samantha, what possessed us to let Commander Crash behind the piloting controls?”

Wildman shook her head, waving her arms in protest as she edged away. “I… I think I’ll opt for immunity and go gather firewood.”

“Discretion is the better part of valor, Ensign,” Janeway agreed. Gingerly lowering herself to a hummock of dirt displaced by the uprooted tree, she missed the amused look the other two exchanged at those familiar words. “Sorry I’m not much help at gathering firewood at the moment, Sam, but someone should probably supervise the commander’s fire building attempt. If he ever starts that attempt.”

“One fire coming right up,” declared Chakotay as he gathered what he needed and set to work.

A long half an hour later, a frustrated firestarter knelt by the fire-ring he’d built in front of their temporary home, muttering curses under his breath. Hearing a soft grunt and a rustle of movement, he glanced up to see Janeway ease from where she was sitting and scoot herself over to him. From the ground between them, she picked up the odd, tool-kit disguised as a pocket-knife he’d used to shred bark, plants and even cloth into tinder and handed it to him. Turning her back toward him, she said, “It’s okay, Chakotay. Take what you need.”

Sighing, Chakotay made an adjustment to the knife, then gently ran his fingers through the reddish-brown mane covering the shoulders in front of him. Ignoring the confusion of emotion their silky softness roused, he separated out the strands he needed and used the scissors attachment to snip them off. Setting the knife aside, he quickly arranged the hair beneath the notch in the flat, wooden hearth board he’d prepared, nested the smooth drill-stick into the hole next to the notch, and began rapidly twirling it between his hands. A small, pea-sized lump of charcoal soon formed and dropped through the notch onto the hair. Bending low, he blew softly on it until a wisp of smoke appeared, then carefully nursed a small, glowing ember into a warm, crackling campfire. He looked up to find both Kathryn and Samantha watching him, their faces shining with delight.

Modesty became secondary to being warm and dry as the three of them stripped down to their underclothes, hanging their damp uniforms on improvised drying racks around the fire. Both women did, however, opt to exchange their bras for their tanktops. The thinner material of the tanktops would dry rapidly even while being worn, giving them just an extra bit of warmth and modesty. Needing neither, Chakotay stripped to his Starfleet issue boxers. He did give a silent thank you to the designers of the loose fitting boxers as he suddenly found himself all too aware of the amount of pale, bare skin exposed to his view. This wasn’t the time or place for such a reaction and he tried to keep focused on other things.

Not that discussing their sleeping arrangements helped.

Fortunately, it was the equivalent of early summer on the planet so the overnight temperatures would remain fairly mild. Between the warmth from the fire and the added warmth if they shared body heat, sleeping in just their underclothes wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. Having seen no sign of either large predators or inhabitants, Chakotay felt safe in dispensing with guard duty, letting them all get the rest they needed. Keeping the fire going was another matter, but he assured Janeway and Wildman he could set his internal clock to wake often enough throughout the night to restoke it.

In the end, there was really only one logical option as to where everyone would sleep. Putting the injured member of the party in the middle put her not only in the warmest spot, but in a position where the other two could monitor her condition. Not that they told her that.

With that settled, the three of them spent the last of the fading daylight attending to personal needs, gathering a last armload or two of firewood, and turning their drying uniforms to put still damp areas toward the fire. With their campsite all ship-shape and full darkness upon them, they sat about the fire, basking in its warm, golden glow.

But the events of the day were telling on them all. It was only a short time before the two women agreed to call it a day and crawled into the shelter. When Chakotay joined them a few moments later after stoking the fire and stacking the remaining wood within easy reach, he found them spooned together, burrowed into the dry leaves that covered the shelter’s floor. Easing his large body into the space behind Kathryn and careful not to jar her injured leg, he slowly moved closer until his chin rested on her head, his chest pressed up against her back and his thighs brushing the backs of her legs. Fully aware of the soft, warm body touching his own, he was surprised at the lack of reaction on Kathryn’s part. Not that he was certain how he wanted her to react… but it wasn’t with total disregard.

Then he heard the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing. Kathryn wasn’t ignoring him-she was sound asleep. Momentarily worried by this unusual behavior, he quickly checked her vitals. Everything was normal, even the pulse beating beneath his fingers on her slender, white neck. Evidently, the accumulated effects of the shuttle crash, near drowning, and her injury had finally solicited payment, but in sleep-not shock.

Tucking one of his arms beneath her head, Chakotay laid the other across both women, resting his hand on Samantha’s waist. He thought she was asleep as well until a small, warm hand gave his a brief squeeze. “Sleep well, Commander,” she whispered.

* * *

Chakotay woke to find himself alone with Kathryn in the shelter. A very un-captain-like Kathryn enjoying-if proximity was any indication-the warmth of his body. Sometime during the night, she’d turned and was now snuggled tightly against him, a tousled head of auburn hair nestled in the crook of his shoulder.

Not that he wasn’t doing his part in this little cuddle-coup. The arm her head rested on was curled around her shoulders, holding her against him. His other arm was trapped between their bodies, his hand cupped around….

_Don’t go there,_ he warned himself. _Not if you hope to have even a prayer of extricating yourself from this predicament with only limited bodily harm._

“Hey, anyone awake in there? I have berries for breakfast.” Samantha’s cheerful voice broke the silence and gave Chakotay the out he needed. Moving quickly, he turned on his back, extending his arms and legs in a long, muscle-easing stretch. Feeling and hearing the woman beside him stir, he turned his head, giving her an innocent, dimpled smile. “Sleep well, Kathryn?”

Brushing her hair out of her eyes, Kathryn unknowingly gifted him with the sight of her own, cat-like stretch before sitting up and replying. “Like the proverbial log. Though I was having a rather odd dream….” Her face suddenly flushed, and she turned away, grunting in pain as she struggled to her feet.

In a flash, Chakotay was on his own feet and reaching a hand to help her. She took the offered hand, but carefully avoided meeting his eyes. Had she figured out it wasn’t a dream?

Giving her both time and space, he retrieved her cane from the back of the shelter. Handing it to her, he was relieved when she looked up at him, features once again calm and composed.

“Thank you, Commander. Shall we see what Sam’s found for breakfast?”

Nodding, he followed her out into the morning sunshine, deciding, as he considered the view, maybe getting dressed should have priority over breakfast. One close call this morning was enough.

The berries Wildman had picked were palatable if not filling. She’d also found a spring nearby, one Chakotay had missed, but only, as Samantha admitted, “Because you didn’t try to walk on water like I did, Commander.” Which explained the socks and boots still drying by the fire and the darker color of her pants from the knees on down.

Refreshed by a night of rest, their thirst quenched, and the edge taken off their hunger for the moment, it was time to think about what they needed to accomplish next. Looking up from watching Wildman clean and re-bandage her leg, Janeway voiced that thought. “So, what’s on the schedule for today, Commander?”

“If you’re ready to take over camp duty,” he told her, “I thought Samantha and I would start gathering what we need to complete the shelter.”

Janeway looked around her. “In other words, I get to sit by the fire and what? Meditate?”

Chakotay smiled, understanding her frustration. “Just until we bring you some of the vines I saw yesterday. We can use some of them as they are-they’re thin but tough-but braiding them into longer and stronger lengths will make them work even better. I know you know how to braid,” he added, his mind instantly flashing to a time when her hair was waist length, hanging in a long, red-gold braid down her back.

If she noticed the fleeting, faraway look in his eyes, Kathryn ignored it. “Yes, I can manage braiding vines. Anything else?”

“Don’t forget to feed the fire.”

“And risk losing more of my hair? Hair no longer long enough for braiding. Not on your life, Commander.” Janeway reached for her socks and boots, missing the sorrow that shadowed Chakotay’s eyes as she handing them to Wildman. “Here, Samantha, you’ll need these more than I will. I think we’re about the same size.”

Wildman didn’t argue, clearly grateful not to have to pull on cold, wet socks and boots. Thanking Janeway, she slipped on the dry items, standing and walking about to test the fit of her borrowed footwear. She stopped in front of Chakotay with a satisfied smile. “Ready to go if you are, sir.”

Acknowledging Samantha, the commander turned to Janeway. “Since our communicators can’t cut through all the interference, I’ll try to keep either Sam or I within voice range while we gather what we need. If you need anything, holler, okay?”

“Janeways do not holler.”

“Huh humm…”

“Understood, sir,” she replied crisply.

Chakotay just shook his head, knowing most of his annoyance was due to his very real concern. Even if a certain petite red-head insisted on acting like a brat at times.

Apparently, she realized that as well. “Sorry, Commander. I’ll tend the fire, braid the vines and holler if I need you. Now go on, get out of here,” she said, shooing him and Wildman on their way.

They headed into the trees and were some distance away when she called after them, “Samantha, do try to keep an eye on the commander, will you. It would be just our luck if his woodsman’s skills are on a par with his fire starting skills.”

“Aarrgghh!” The woman was incorrigible.

“Let’s hope not,” Wildman laughingly hollered back, pointedly ignoring the cut-to-the-quick look Chakotay affected.

* * *

For the next few hours, Chakotay and Wildman worked steadily: gathering tree limbs, evergreen boughs and vines and lugging them close to the shelter. They also gathered additional firewood. Finally, the commander drew Wildman aside. “There should be more than enough material here to enclose the shelter,” he said quietly.

“You’re leaving on your diving expedition?” Samantha had been dreading this moment. “I’ve got one more thing I need to do first, but, yes, I’m going to get the supplies we need from the shuttle.”

“Those look like storm clouds moving in, Commander,” she replied, turning her eyes to the skies west of the lake.

Chakotay looked up at the dark clouds massing in the distance. “That’s why I’m leaving now. If everything goes according to plan, I should be there and back before the worst of it hits.”

“And when she asks where you are?”

Chakotay glanced at the shelter and the woman resting by the fire. “Tell her I decided to do a little more exploring… see if there’s something more than berries to eat.” Wildman didn’t look convinced. “Her anger will be directed at me, Sam,.” he assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Ever hear of collateral damage, Commander?”

“I’ve seen you handle Naomi’s temper tantrums, Samantha; I have great faith in you.”

“My daughter can’t demote me.”

“And neither can she at the moment.”

Samantha’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “Okay, but you owe me, Chakotay.”

His hand squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worrry, Sam, we’ll be back on Voyager before Naomi can catch even a hint anything went wrong with our mission.” With a parting smile of encouragement, he moved off-only to stop and look back after just a few steps.

“As for your other responsibility… Letting her help with the shelter might make things. . . go more smoothly. And, just remember, Sam, if she thinks you need a break, she’s more likely to take one as well.”

Circling wide around the shelter area, Chakotay gathered the materials for the one more thing he’d told Samantha he needed to do and headed for the lakeshore.

At the water’s edge, he quickly braided several of the thin, rope-like vines that seemed to flourish here into thicker, longer lengths. He used these to lash together several short tree limbs. He then braided an even longer length of those same vines and attached it to one side of his crude craft. It would serve as both tow rope and, when fastened to a large rock he’d encased in a small net of vines, as an anchor. Measuring only a little over a meter on all sides, the small raft wasn’t intended to carry him-only the supplies he planned to scavenge from the submerged shuttle. At the last moment, he tossed several extra vines onto the raft; they could be used to lash down his cargo if necessary.

* * *

It took Chakotay longer than he expected to reach the shuttle. As the clouds on the horizon drew closer, a stiff cross breeze picked up, churning the surface of the lake with small whitecaps. The rough water not only made towing the raft more difficult, but keeping the marker buoy in sight was almost impossible. More than once he had to adjust his course, adding energy-sapping time and distance to his swim. Gone were his hopes of completing more than one trip; he’d be lucky to finish this trip before the impending storm hit.

Dropping the rock anchor over the side, he took the added precaution of securing the raft to the marker buoy, hoping both his clumsy knot and the vines would hold as the weather worsened. That done, he grasped the side of the raft, kicked hard with his legs, and heaved his upper body out of the water and onto its uneven surface.

Resting was a hard decision. Spotting the murky outline of the shuttle less than 10 meters below, the heedless, worried part of him wanted to dive now, knowing what a difference a few supplies could make in their situation-especially the medical supplies. Fortunately, his Starfleet survival training and years of experience in the Maquis held firm. His time might be limited but so was his energy. Rashly pushing himself now would only serve to endanger his mission. Resting would allow his body-and mind-to re-energize. It would also give him time to think things through.

With the weather forecast grim, he’d already used his swim to re-prioritize what he needed to retrieve from the shuttle. Now would be a good time to review that list. Planning ahead to make certain the away team came out of this in good shape wouldn’t hurt either. It would be at least another two days before Voyager realized their communication probes were no longer arriving on a regular basis, another three for the ship to reach their location. So far, the planet was decently hospitable. Spending even a week stranded here with only minimal supplies shouldn’t prove too much of a hardship.

Though Kathryn, no doubt, would complain about the lack of a bathtub.

Kathryn… Kathryn injured. This scenario wasn’t exactly what he and Tuvok had in mind when they devised their little plan.

Then again… _When have things ever gone according to plan where Kathryn Janeway is concerned?_

* * *

Arms crossed on the headrest of her chair, Captain Kathryn Janeway stood and watched as her senior staff volleyed facts and figures, questions and suggestions back and forth across the briefing room table. Less than seventy-two hours ago, she’d ordered the change in course that brought Voyager into a region of space replete with three planetary systems within a few lights years of each other. Three systems that might prove to be gold mines in terms of resupplying a currently resource-lean starship.

Unfortunately, within these multi-planeted systems, the same powerful, overlapping magnetic fields that hinted at an abundance of the minerals and heavy metals Voyager sorely needed also reduced long-range scans and communications to alphabet soup. Thus the debate: how best to obtain what they needed with the minimum expenditure of current resources.

Listening, Janeway couldn’t help feeling amused-and just a bit smug. It was always satisfying to find her staff on the same page as herself; it saved her energies for the more important arguments. And there were sure to be arguments from at least two of her officers when they caught onto the one glaring difference in her plan and the one they were proposing.

Straightening up, her hands lightly gripping the back of her chair, she spoke in an authoritative voice that cut through all the others. “Good, it sounds as if we are all in agreement.” With every eye in the room now focused on her, Janeway stepped away from her chair and began making her way casually around the table. “Voyager will remain in support mode equidistance from all three systems while a separate away team will be dispatched to survey each system. Teams will be comprised of two mission specialists and one security officer. Lieutenant Torres, Ensign Kim, you will each be leading a team. Pick your second team member from the rota Commander Chakotay will provide; Commander Tuvok will assign your security officer.”

The officers named nodded in acknowledgment.

“Seven,” she continued, “you will find the specs for communication probe series beta-11 in the database. The away teams will be using these to report back to Voyager. They’re not exactly direct communication, but under the circumstances…. Make any necessary adaptations and replicate the required quantity for each shuttle.”

“Captain, given sufficient time, I believe I can adapt Voyager’s communications system to compensate for the interference, eliminating the need for such probes.”

“Probes first, Seven. Then you can play around with adapting communications.”

“Play is i… ” Janeway hid a smile as Seven caught the doctor’s warning frown and rephrased her response. “Understood, Captain.”

Reaching her helm officer, Janeway paused, resting a hand on his chair. “Lieutenant Paris, work with stellar cartography to decipher what you can from sensor scans and then move Voyager into position. I’d also like you to plot, as best you can, optimal routes to each system for the shuttles and Voyager.” She caught just the slightest movement from her chief of security and added, “Those you plot for Voyager should take into account possible rescue scenarios.”

“Aye, Captain,” replied the lanky, blonde pilot, turning in his chair to flash her a cheeky grin. “Guess this means I’m grounded.”

Janeway hid her own smile; it appeared she wasn’t the only one feeling restless. “With good cause, I’m sure, Mister Paris.” She tapped her commbadge. “Janeway to shuttle maintenance.”

“Shuttle maintenance, Lieutenant Hargreave here, Captain.”

“Lieutenant, I need three long range shuttles each prepped for a self-sustained mission and ready to go in…” Janeway quickly reviewed all that needed to be done. There was a lot riding on the success of this mission. Too much to rush things. “… in forty-eight hours. Mission duration two weeks, crew compliment three per vessel.”

“Acknowledged, Captain. Hargreave out.”

Janeway shifted her gaze to the Doctor who took this as his cue.

“I’ll need the names of all team members as soon as possible to work up the standard inoculation packages,” he said. “Lacking complete sensor scans, the best I can do is include a supplementary medkit with the makings for several additional preventatives. I also believe it would be prudent to supplement the standard kit with additional supplies as well. One never knows what nasty little surprises can be lurking on even the most innocuous looking planets. I remember reading-“

“Sounds as if the well-being of the away teams is in good hands, Doctor. Team leaders will forward the names of their team members to you today by 1200 hours,” Janeway replied, hiding a smile when the EMH looked undecided whether to be miffed at being cut off or flattered by her praise. But it was time to move things along.

“Okay, people,” she continued crisply, “you have your assignments. Away teams will report to astrometrics at 0100 hours for the first pre-mission briefing.” So far, so good. She had the door lined up right behind her. “Dismiss-“

“Captain, you have neglected to assign a leader for the third away team.”

Damn borg efficiency.

And damn presumptuous first officers.

“That’s because the captain assumes her officers take it for granted she will be leading one of the away teams,” Chakotay said, neatly blocking any chance of her making her own response.

“Thank you for that clarification, Commander,” she growled. Spinning on her heel, Janeway strode from the room, her barked “Dismissed!” leaving no doubt this time the meeting was over. Moving at high warp, she crossed the bridge’s upper level, slowing only enough to avoid colliding with the doors to her ready room. Safely inside, she made a beeline for the replicator. “Coffee, black.”

Grasping the steaming cup in both hands, Janeway raised it to her face, taking a moment to inhale the heady aroma before bringing the cup to her lips. A long, languorous swallow later, she lowered the cup and let out a deep sigh. Unlike many things in life, she could always depend on coffee to help her keep things in perspective. Pity the day-and her crew-if she ever had to do without it. She polished off what remained in her cup, ordered a refill and carried it to her desk.

A short communication with Ensign Samantha Wildman confirmed her addition to Janeway’s team as the second mission specialist. She’d have to wait for the name of the team’s security officer, but, if things went according to pattern, her chief of security or her first officer, or both, should be paying her a visit any time now. She was under no illusion retreating to her ready room protected her from the arguments she knew were coming, but doing so was a reflex. Letting the battle come to her in “The Captain’s Room” had a psychological advantage she’d learned to appreciate early on in her career.

_And, with those two, I need all the advantage I can get._

* * *

The battle Janeway anticipated never materialized. Engrossed in preparing for the briefing, she started when the computer announced, “Thirty minutes to mission briefing.” A glance at her desk chronometer confirmed the time.

Okay, so, where were they? Janeway shook her head, puzzling it over as she pushed away from her desk and eased protesting muscles into a full body stretch. They should have been here long before this. They couldn’t possibly be giving in without even a small skirmish. Could they be waiting until the last minute?

Damn, she’d been sitting too long. She deepened the stretch.

No, delaying the inevitable wasn’t like them either. Neither was making this a public battle of wills by confronting her at the briefing. _Okay… what devious options does that leave them?_

Janeway stretched one last, vertebrae-popping time and stood. It didn’t really matter; she was leading one of the away teams even if those two rats sent a whole security detachment with her. “Rats,” she chuckled aloud. Well, this won’t be the first time she’d thought she smelled a rat-make that two rats-where Chakotay and Tuvok were concerned. A broad smile lit her face. “You’d think by now you’d have learned mere rats can never best a Kat.”

Still smiling, she headed for the replicator. There was just enough time for a quick lunch before the briefing. “Coffee, black. And, uhmmm….” A very un-captain-like giggle escaped. “A toasted cheese sandwich.”

* * *

“How long do you think it will take her to figure it out?” Chakotay asked the tall, dark-skinned man standing next to him.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow.

Okay, so it was a stupid question. Chakotay resorted to humor, “At least she won’t be armed yet since this is just a briefing.” Oh, yeah, that was better. Shit, even he could hear the doubt behind his words.

“Nonetheless, I have taken the precaution of suppressing all weapons fire in Astrometrics.”

Vulcan humor? Or was it possible Tuvok was just as nervous as he when it came to boxing Janeway into a corner? His speculation abruptly ended as the doors to Astrometrics swooshed open.

Looking every inch the captain, Kathryn Janeway strode into the room, her imperious gaze sweeping the group gathered there. Trailing behind her was Ensign Wildman. Crossing to the control console in the middle of the room, Janeway set down the stack of PADDs she was carrying and turned to face her waiting crew, taking a moment to silently assess the away teams. Following her gaze, Chakotay realized the makeup of the teams was readily apparent from their unconscious clustering. Vorik from engineering and Ensign Tanner from security flanked Harry, while Jenny Delaney and Mike Ayala stood next to B’Elanna. Samantha was with the captain; Seven was here to help facilitate the briefing. That left only Tuvok and himself on the radar.

“Commander Tuvok, am I to assume the security officer assigned to my team is present?”

“Yes, Captain, the security officer for the third away team is present.”

If he hadn’t been watching her closely, Chakotay would have missed the flicker of surprise on her face before her captain’s mask slipped firmly back in place. She was expecting an argument-expecting to fight to remain on an away team.

“We surprised her,” he whispered to Tuvok as Janeway got the briefing underway.

“Indeed,” replied the Vulcan. “Though I believe ‘the moment of truth’ is yet to come, Commander.”

“There’s still time to go best two out of three.”

“It would not be logical to deprive you of your loss, Commander.”

“And your uniform isn’t the only thing yellow about you, Commander.”

“Commanders Chakotay and Tuvok, would you care to join us?” The voice was silky, but the blue eyes regarding them were as frosty as a winter’s morning in Indiana.

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused. It may not be the ‘moment of truth,’ but it was definitely crunch time.

* * *

“All right, unless one of you can think of something we haven’t covered… .” Janeway smiled to herself as every eye in the room turned to Seven of Nine. For the first time in two days of briefings, the tall blonde remained silent. “Good. As soon as each team has completed a final equipment check, consider yourselves off duty until 0500 hundred tomorrow morning. Though I do expect each of you to at least make an appearance,” she looked pointedly at Tuvok, “at the little send-off gathering Neelix has organized for this evening.

“Ensign Wildman, Commanders Tuvok and Chakotay, please remain. The rest of you are dismissed.”

For a moment, Janeway watched the crew members filing out of astrometrics, then she turned to Wildman and handed her a PADD. “Ensign, I’d like you to start on the equipment check. Our security officer and I will join you shortly.”

“Aye, Captain.” Wildman headed for the exit.

“Oh, and Samantha,” Janeway called after her, switching to her name to let the ensign know their conversation was now on an informal level, “how is our youngest crewmember holding up? Any problems with you leaving on an extended mission?”

Samantha gave her a broad smile, pleased as always with the special bond between her captain and her daughter. “Naomi is fine, Captain. Ktarian children mature much faster than human children. She may not like it, but she knows Mommy being away for a few days is part of Mommy’s job. Besides, Neelix and the rest of the crew spoil her rotten while I’m gone.”

“As they should. Please tell her the captain thinks she is a very special young lady.”

“Perhaps you’d like to tell her yourself, Captain. She’ll be at Neelix’s party.”

“I’ll do that. Carry on, Ensign.”

When the doors to Astrometrics closed behind Wildman, Janeway turned her gaze on the waiting men. To most observers, they would appear the picture of calm anticipation, but the hand unconsciously tugging on Chakotay’s ear and the heightened green tinge to Tuvok’s features told her a different story. Through two days of briefings they’d never once argued against her going on this away mission. But neither had they said she was definitely going. Was that the reason for their nervousness now… they were facing the moment of truth? It was high time she found out.

“Too bad the two of you don’t mature as fast as Ktarian children.”

“With all due respect, Naomi’s mother is not the captain of this ship.” Chakotay’s expression was as deadly serious as her own. And as stubborn.

“Are you planning to lock me up in the brig, Commander? Because that’s the only way you’re going to keep me from going on this away mission.”

“Believe me, we considered that option.” Chakotay let those words hang in the air for a moment, then, softening both his expression and his voice, he continued. “Kathryn, you know it’s our duty to protect you.”

“There’s a difference between protecting and smothering, Chakotay.” Janeway held his gaze for a long beat before her chin dropped, her eyes fixed on a spot on the floor as she whispered, “I need this time away from Voyager.”

Chakotay stepped closer to her, almost, but not quite, invading her personal space. If not for Tuvok closely watching this interplay between them, she knew he would have put his hands on her shoulders, giving tangible evidence of his support.

“We understand that, Kathryn. Our close encounter with the Borg-not to mention the trials and tribulations of reprogramming one of their drones. The lose of Kes. Alien brain-washings… ” He faltered on his own contribution to her worries, then pressed on. “By any measure, this is already shaping up to be the year from hell and no one bears the brunt of all the accumulated stress and anxiety more so than Voyager’s captain. Which is why,” he continued, “Tuvok and I have come up with a compromise we think we can all live with… even one generally uncompromising, determined Starfleet captain.”

Janeway’s head came up, blue eyes snapping. “Careful, Commander, your maturity is showing.” She glanced over at Tuvok, hoping for some clue as to this wonderful compromise of theirs, but she could have gotten more information from a bulkhead. Shaking her head in resignation, she leaned back against the work station behind her, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay, gentleman. Let’s hear this compromise.”

* * *

It took the better part of three days for Janeway’s team to reach their assigned planetary system. The mission specialists kept busy working to improve sensor readings as they approached the system, comparing them to the long range scans made from Voyager. Security ran daily system checks on the shuttle and their gear, and required the specialists to run through just enough computer simulations to keep at least one of them annoyed at what she termed unnecessary interruptions. Fortunately, security was also responsible for the primary piloting duties and had volunteered for galley duty, both of which kept the drills to a minimum. Everyone did, however, eat regularly and well.

Once in system, the team’s focus narrowed to pinpointing specific resources, prioritizing them, and charting the most efficient means of gathering them. Interference from the magnetic fields still made getting complete scans impossible, but the specialists were using what was known about the causes of such fields to formulate algorithms they hoped would “fill in” the missing data and generate a fairly accurate survey analysis. In addition, orbital and rotational models, gravitational forces, weather patterns and other readings affecting navigation were forwarded to their pilot who used the information to plot course and landing scenarios for the various planets and moons in the system. Occupied with their individual tasks, time passed pleasantly enough for the away team.

Until the time came when the survey was all but completed. “Busy work” was suddenly in short supply and the walls of the Calypso seemed to close in a bit with all the waiting.

“Anything new on sensors, Crewman?”

The woman seated at the science station tucked into one corner of the shuttle’s flight deck didn’t even bother to look up. “Not since the last time you asked.”

“Huh-humm.”

“Oh, was that a request for an official report, Commander?” Janeway asked sweetly.

An instant later, she felt a shiver run through her as Chakotay’s warm breath stirred the hair around her ear. Leaning close, he placed one hand on the back of her chair, the other on the edge of the console, effectively trapping her at her station. “You agreed to this arrangement, Kathryn, including the temporary reduction in rank.”

She couldn’t turn to face him now; he was too damn close. “That was before you proved to be such an impatient tyrant.”

“Huh-humm.”

“Impatient tyrant, sir.”

A soft snort of laughter tickled her ear again and Janeway felt the goosebumps rise on her arms. “Don’t push it, Kathryn. In my book, crewmen who insist on acting like children get punished like children.”

Only Chakotay’s quick reflexes prevented their heads from smacking together as Janeway whipped around to face him. “You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”

Faces mere inches apart, they stared each other down.

It was Chakotay who moved first, pushing himself upright. Shaking his head, he looked down at the stubborn red-head still glaring at him. “No, sending you to your room probably wouldn’t work.”

“Sending me to my room?”

“What other punishment would a commanding officer consider, Crewman?”

Janeway’s glare faltered until she caught the smug smile on his lips. “Damn y-” The door between the flight deck and the crew compartment slid open, cutting off her retort.

Samantha Wildman stepped through the opening, looking bright and chipper after her rest period. “Anything new on sensors?” she asked.

“Arrrggghhh,” Janeway groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

Her console chose that moment to beep. “Survey analysis complete,” intoned the dispassionate voice of the computer.

Both Wildman and Chakotay were right at her shoulders as Janeway turned back to her instruments. “Display results,” she told the computer. Almost instantaneously, a screen on the wall above her console began filling with text. Scanning it, she tapped in a rapid series of commands and another screen came to life, this one showing a map of the system. “Computer, overlay survey analysis on system map using selected parameters.” In moments, six symbols appeared on the map, each varying as to color, shape and size. A seventh symbol, a white delta, indicated their shuttle’s location.

“So what have we got, Crewman?” Chakotay asked.

Janeway paused, glancing at the commander’s face out of the corner of her eye before answering. He looked as business-like as he sounded. _And that is your rank for the duration of this mission._

Slender fingers tapped in another series of commands and a small inset display appeared in the lower left corner of the system map. Pointing to it, Janeway explained, “Based on our current position, I asked the computer to determine the six closest locations with the highest percentage of resources, prioritizing those resources as to whether they provide for immediate, ongoing or future needs. The co-“

“The color, shape and size of the symbols represent those parameters,” Wildman interjected.

“Which means this,” a large, brown hand brushed Janeway’s aside as it moved to stab a finger at one of the symbols on the map display, “is where we are heading first.”

Janeway slumped back in her chair. “Humph! Don’t know what you two need me for,” she groused.

Chakotay’s hand dropped onto her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Not to worry, Janeway, there will be plenty for you to do when the grunt work starts.”

* * *

Grunting softly as she tugged a vine tight, Samantha Wildman crouched on the ground, lashing a series of vertical support branches to three horizontal crosspieces, forming the framework for the fourth and final section of wall for the front of their shelter. Three similar frameworks were wedged against the fallen tree trunk that served as the roof of the shelter, two of them finished. Kathryn Janeway stood in front of the third section, her weight balanced on her good leg, as her hands moved back and forth in a graceful, steady rhythm, weaving layers of evergreen boughs between the support poles.

Evidently bored with her fire-tending duties, Janeway hadn’t spoken a word, just hobbled over and joined Samantha in the wall building task. And, though she knew she could order “Crewman Janeway” to desist, Wildman had neither the inclination nor the heart to dissuade her.

Helping also kept Janeway from asking about the commander.

Together, the two women worked through the afternoon, enjoying the soft sounds of the forest around them, neither of them feeling the need for idle chatter.

_Yet neither of us is exactly at ease._ Wildman glanced over at Janeway, catching the other woman looking again in the direction of the lakeshore. “I’m sure he will be back anytime now,” she told her.

Janeway’s gaze shifted to the clouds massing in dark, ominous towers over the lake. “I know, but I don’t like the idea of him trying to reach the shuttle alone with a storm moving in.”

Turning, she saw Samantha’s surprised look. “You didn’t think I knew what he was planning?” She shook her head, a lop-sided smile softening her face. “When you work together as closely as the commander and I do, Ensign, you learn to anticipate what the other will do given a certain set of circumstances.” Her grin deepened. “Besides, even a lowly crewman can figure out we could really use the supplies we had to leave….”

The change happened so rapidly Wildman wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t witnessed it. Janeway’s smile vanished and she jerked back toward her weaving in a move too fast for her injured leg. It buckled under her.

Lurching to her feet, Samantha hastened to the other woman’s side, but Janeway had already caught and steadied herself on one of the support poles. Seeing her sudden pallor and the teeth biting into her lower lip, Wildman was just opening her mouth to ask when Janeway’s raised hand and a terse “I’m fine, Ensign,” stopped her in her tracks. It was then that Samantha realized what it was she’d heard Janeway muttering before she stumbled: “Another fine mess….” Really, the woman’s predisposition for guilt would put even the ancient Catholics to shame.

_And what dredged up that particular allusion?_ Her Academy studies in Alpha Quadrant Religions were a long time ago.

Her own guilt, no doubt, but now was not the time for an internal debate on the merits of following the lead of a superior officer too damn chicken to do his own obfuscation.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a break from all this construction work.” Wildman bent down, picked up Janeway’s walking stick and held it out to her. “We could stop by the spring for a tall, cool one, snack on some more berries, and then maybe stroll down to the lake….” Was that a growl she heard?

“Does the man teach classes on how to manage me?”

Hiding a grin, Wildman continued holding out the cane, not even flinching at the slit-eyed glare cast in her direction.

Finally, Janeway took a deep breath and took the cane from Samantha. She studied it a moment before placing the tip on the ground and leaning on it. “Permission to speak freely, Ensign?”

Wildman struggled to hide her surprise. “Of… of course, Crewman.”

“As a ranking officer, you might want to look the other way if I decide to beat some sense into that man with my cane, Ensign.”

It was an even harder struggle to hold in her laughter. “I’ve… I’ve always… I’ve always had trouble seeing… and laughing at the same time… Crewman.”

* * *

For the second time in about as many days, Chakotay woke sputtering as water sloshed against his face. A sensation that brought with it some unnerving memories. Memories… yes, they were just memories. They’d escaped the sinking shuttle. All of them. And they’d made it to shore and safety… despite Kathryn’s injury. Had to leave the survival gear behind, though.

_Which is why I’m here._ Raising his upper body off the raft, Chakotay flexed limbs grown stiff during his rest and looked about. His knot and the vines had held, keeping the raft firmly tethered to the marker buoy despite his worries in the face of the worsening weather.

And it had worsened. The mass of dark, threatening clouds were directly overhead now, primed to drop their load at anytime. The stiff cross breeze he’d fought in reaching the shuttle site had turned to powerful gusts of wind that whipped the surface of the lake into rolling waves, rocking the raft as if it were on roller coaster tracks. He needed to get moving.

Easing back to the edge of the raft, Chakotay slipped into the churning water. Carefully keeping one hand braced against the side of the shifting raft, he sought with the other for the tether leading from the buoy to the submerged shuttle. With that in his grasp, he took several deep breaths, purposely hyperventilating to saturate his lungs with oxygen, stopping just short of light-lightheadedness. Holding that last breath, and keeping the tether lightly clasped in one hand, he sank beneath the water, jackknifed into a powerful dive and began kicking for the bottom.

The water was calm and visibility pretty fair once he was deeper than the surface action, allowing him to release the tether and stroke more rapidly towards the bulky shadow looming just below. Closing in on his goal, and able to see the once sleek hull of the Calypso quite clearly now, Chakotay’s eyes were drawn to the jagged, egg-sized holes peppering the light gray metal. The extent of the damage surprised him, but there wasn’t time now to dwell on what whim of the spirits had spared the away team. Reaching the escape hatch… Was it really just yesterday they fought their way out of it?… Chakotay used the handholds to pull himself inside.

Pushing aside the even more powerful memories floating with the flotsam inside the shuttle’s flooded interior, he headed for the storage lockers in the bulkhead between the flight deck and the crew compartment. His first order of business was to locate and strap on an emergency breather. With breathing no longer an issue, he had time to not only retrieve the medkits and other survival gear, but time to determine whether the emergency transponder had kicked in-it was beeping with the regularity of a Vulcan heartbeat. Time to stuff some odds and ends he thought might be of interest to his crewmates into the carry-webbing on the other gear; and, finally, time to raid the Calypso’s tiny galley for anything that might supplement or make more palatable the Starfleet ration packs. Obviously, no one who helped concoct those things ever had to eat one of them… and live to tell about it.

Silently chuckling at the image of a Board of Inquiry forced to confront an emergency rations taste test, Chakotay hefted the bundle of supplies he’d collected, gauging whether he could manage to get both it and himself back to the surface. Hmmm… a couple of floats would be nice. Floats…

* * *

“Can you see the marker buoy?”

“Between this wind and the rough water, it would be hard to see the Calypso if it were still floating out there,” Janeway complained, pushing her wildly whipping hair back off her face. Steadying herself with her cane, she shielded her eyes with her hand as she peered out across the lake. “Damn,” she said, thumping the cane against the ground for emphasis, “he should be back by now, Samantha. Even with this lousy weather.”

Wildman studied the vines and tree limbs they’d found alongside of pile of discarded clothing near the water’s edge. “Even a small raft would be difficult to maneuver in this. Maybe we aren’t looking in the right place.”

Janeway’s head snapped around, startled blue eyes fixing on Samantha. “Remind me to promote you when we get back to Voyager, Ensign. The wind and waves would force him in that direction,” she said, pointing to where the lakeshore curved to the east. “Let’s go.”

Wildman’s face brightened, her eyes twinkling with humor as she gathered up the commander’s clothing and hurried to catch up with the other woman who was already hobbling away. “A promotion, huh? I didn’t know a crewman could give promotions?”

Janeway smiled, worry slipping momentarily from her face. “Don’t tell anyone, but this crewman has an inside track with command.”

“Are you sure the commander would see sleeping with him last night as enough incentive? Especially since we both were-” Samantha’s teasing broke off in mid-sentence. _Smooth, Wildman… bucking for a de-motion?_ Just because the woman you worked side by side with the past few days seemed so relaxed… so just-one-of-the-crew. That’s no reason to forget that woman is your captain… no matter what the commander said.

A quick glance revealed Janeway no longer walking beside her and Sam stopped, slowly turning around, her eyes focused on the ground at Janeway’s feet, her words tumbling over one another. “Ma’am,. I’m so sorry, ma’am. That was completely… totally out of line. I would never… it’s just… it’s just the past few days….”

“The past few days I haven’t been your captain.”

Samantha’s head jerked up. Janeway’s posture was stiff and formal-well, as stiff and formal as one could look leaning on a cane-but her expression wasn’t the stern outrage Sam expected. Her words were even more surprising.

“Relax, Sam. I’m not going to bite your head off.” Janeway’s lips curled in a lopsided smile. “Your sense of humor just caught me off guard. Probably because I usually don’t get to experience it… first hand anyway. Chakotay usually fills me in on what jokes and antics are keeping the crew entertained.”

“I’ll have to remember to watch what I say in front of the commander from now on.”

“Oh, Sam, please don’t. Finding humor in our life here in the Delta Quadrant… and sharing that humor… that’s vital to crew morale.” Janeway’s smile deepened. “Besides, the commander is the epitome of discretion when it comes to humorous anecdotes. I rarely know exactly who is involved… even when I threaten him with bodily harm.”

The clouds chose that moment to release a deluge of cold, pelting rain.

“Speaking of bodily harm, we need to get back on task and find the commander.” Janeway had to shout to be heard above the noise of the storm.

“Giving orders again, Crewman?” Wildman yelled back, grasping Janeway’s elbow to help steady her on the increasingly slippery ground.

“Bossy seemed to be the way to go for command track. And I’ve always liked to excel at whatever I do.”

When laughter invited drowning by rainwater, the two women wisely concentrated solely on walking, pausing every so often to attempt to scan the waters offshore for any sign off the commander.

Thirty miserable minutes later, they huddled together, chafing cold hands against soaked, shivering bodies as they reconsidered their options. The torrential rain had slackened to a steady drizzle, but the wind was as strong as ever, relentlessly buffeting the backs they turned to it.

“The storm’s moving east across the lake,” said Wildman, using her hands and arms to illustrate her point. “We started north of here with the wind blowing to our left when we faced the lake. Now it’s slightly to our right.”

Janeway nodded. “Which means the wind couldn’t have taken him any farther than this. He’s somewhere between here and where we started. But where, dammit? Where are you, Chakotay?”

The last was spoken so softly, Wildman barely heard it. Putting a hand on the older woman’s shoulder, she told her, “We’ll find him… despite this lovely weather we’re having.” She noticed Janeway fiddling with the communicator on her jacket. “Still no luck with the communicators?”

Janeway’s fingers ceased their nervous dance and tapped the delta-shaped pin above her left breast. “Janeway to Chakotay. Respond please.” The crackle of static was the only reply. “I’d say that’s a no. Considering the type of interference we’re up against, we’d probably have better luck just hollering for the commander.”

Wildman smiled at that deliberate choice of words. “Well, hollering is one way of getting someone’s attention,” she said thoughtfully. “What are some others? Fire?”

Like command, brainstorming was something else Janeway excelled at. “Too wet. I’d be bald by the time we got one started. Mirrors?”

“Left my makeup kit on Voyager. Phaser fire?”

“Left Betsy on Voyager.”

“Betsy?”

“Never mind… wait a minute.” Janeway raised her cane in the air, waving it back and forth. “Signal flags.”

“We can use one of our jackets.”

“Already on it… Damn, my hands are frozen.”

“Here, let me help.” Wildman grasped the flapping jacket, holding it so Janeway could slip her cane through one of the arms. “Do you think he’ll understand we need him to signal back?”

“I’m counting on it, Sam.”

* * *

He was groggy, his eyes refusing to open, the first time Chakotay awoke. He was also puzzled to find himself warm and dry. Naked-but warm and dry. Even more puzzling was the equally warm-and naked-body tucked against him. He tried to raise up for a look, but his head was much too heavy-like a green block of wood. And, speaking of wood, who took the wood rasp to his throat? Damn, you’d think with all the rainwater and lake water he’d swallowed his throat wouldn’t feel so dry and irritated. A drink sure would nice. Some nice, cool… “Waa…ter,” he croaked, trying again to raise himself up.

A soothing hand pressed him back. “Sssshhh, take it easy, Commander. Let’s not wake the captain.” A small, wet tube slipped between his lips and, instinctively, he sucked on it, choking in his eagerness. Cloth of some kind wiped his chin. “Slowly, please.” A quiet chuckle. “She’ll kill me if you drown now.”

“Samantha?” Was that who was talking to him?

The tube was pulled away and his chin wiped dry. “You got it in one, Commander.”

“Ka… the captain? Where’s she?”

“Sleeping like a baby right beside you.”

Chakotay snuggled closer to that soft, warm body. “Feels nice.”

A soft snort. “Let’s hope she feels the same way when she wakes up.”

Feeling his blankets being gently straightened and tucked into place, Chakotay was just drifting off again when something occurred to him. “Supplies?” he asked sleepily.

“Not to worry, Commander,” came Wildman’s dulcet tones. “I’ll keep an MRE warm for you. Now go to sleep.”

“Great…almost… bad… Nee… lix.” he muttered as awareness faded.

The second time Chakotay awoke, he was alone, sprawled in a tangle of Starfleet-issue emergency blankets. Staring up at the rough bark overhead, he realized he was in the shelter. _But I don’t remember getting here._ What did he remember? Wind and water. Gusting wind and wickedly rolling water. Fighting them both to get his raft of supplies back to shore.

And thanking the spirits he’d taken the time to attach the floats he’d used to help lift the supplies from the shuttle, giving the raft a little extra buoyancy and stability. A clever inspiration, that-if he did say so himself: filling collapsible water containers with compressed air from an emergency breather.

Too bad he hadn’t been that clever when it came to giving in to the forces of Mother Nature. No wonder his father, Kolopak, always said he was too stubborn and contrary for his own good.

No, he’d been determined to make the raft go where he wanted it to go. It wasn’t until the wave-tossed raft caught him a glancing blow to the temple, a blow that might have proved fatal if it had caught him full on, that he’d realized the futility of his efforts. Calculating his move with the movement of the waves and the raft, he’d hoisted his upper body atop the gear lashed to the raft, run his arms through the netting encasing those supplies to secure himself in place, and settled in to ride out the storm.

And then the heavens had opened.

With cold rain pelting down on him, barely able to see more than a few feet in front of the raft, he’d again thanked the spirits-this time for rescuing him from himself. He might end up wringing wet and cold to the bone, but unless the raft sank, his chances of drowning were slim. Not something he could have said if he’d stayed in the water, stubbornly battling the raft and the weather. Besides, even without his guidance, the raft would eventually reach the shore.

Reach the shore. Chakotay cringed, even now feeling the heat of embarrassment. How could he have been so stupid: letting his focus narrow so much it blinded him to the obvious? The storm had been moving across the lake, wind and waves moving from shore to shore. Maybe not to the same spot where he started, but shore was shore. And getting his hard won supplies safely ashore was worth even a long hike back to camp.

Funny… he didn’t remember much about that hike-though he’d clearly made it back. Maybe Kathryn or Samantha could fill him in.

That reminded him: Where were his crewmates? Maybe he should go find them. If the amount of light pouring through the opening in the woven, evergreen wall near his feet was any indication, he’d slept more than enough of this day away.

Which brought up another question: What day was it?

Rolling out of the blankets, Chakotay stood and stretched. He was a bit stiff and sore, but nothing that wouldn’t ease with use. But hold on… he couldn’t exactly stride out of the shelter in his birthday suit. Not that everyone hadn’t already seen everything.

Had he really spent hours… days… lying naked with Kathryn? _Just my luck to have been asleep._ Good thing or she might have killed you-something that was still a possibility. Best not to dwell on it. Just act as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. _It’s what she’ll do._

Best not to dwell on that either.

“Clothes, I need clothes.” Looking around, Chakotay spotted his neatly folded garments setting on top of the two medkits and some other gear stacked along the back wall. His boots stood beside them. He’d have to remember to thank the laundress.

As he pulled his T-shirt over his head, his stomach let out a loud rumble. Not surprising since the last meal he recalled, if you could call it that, was the couple of handfuls of berries he’d eaten before his trip to the shuttle. Though there was a hazy memory of someone promising to keep a meal warm for him.

No… a Meal-Ready-to-Eat. Or, as many experienced souls called them, Meals-Returning-Eventually. No matter how hard Starfleet R&D tried to improve them, these prepackaged, self-heating rations rarely failed to put more digestive systems than not in a temporal loop of distress. Maybe he wasn’t that hungry after all.

An even louder rumble shot down that hope. Tucking his shirt into his waistband, he fastened his pants and bravely stepped from the shelter.

An MRE was waiting for him on a chunk of log placed in front of the doorway. Pasta with vegetables. If he survived, he’d have to thank the cook as well as the laundress.

Leaving the food to heat, Chakotay took a look around the camp they’d established their first day on the planet. Someone had clearly been busy. The fire was carefully banked, glowing embers waiting to be coaxed back into a blaze as the day cooled. Nearby sat a good-sized stack of firewood. Arranged along the front wall of the shelter were three of the four, bright red, collapsible containers he’d used as floats. They were filled with spring water.

_I lost the fourth trying to signal back at Kathryn and Samantha._ Another memory resurfacing?

Taking one of the cups hanging on the wall above the containers, Chakotay filled it with water and drank it and a second cup. Refilling the cup for the third time, he carried it with him to his waiting meal. Hunger overrode hesitation and he made short work of the MRE despite the mushy pasta and lack of any identifiable vegetables. He even choked down the tough, greasy slab of something pretending to be garlic bread. Fortunately, the fruit compote and peanut butter cookies were actually quite tasty. He washed it all down with the third cup of spring water and quickly cleaned up.

There was still no sign of either woman and Chakotay couldn’t help feeling a little worried… and a bit neglected. Sure, they’d left him clothes and food, but shouldn’t they be wondering if he were awake yet? If he found the things they’d left for him? Did they assume he’d just sit contentedly in camp waiting for them to return?

Grumbling to himself, Chakotay picked a likely direction: heading for the lake. _How could she just assume I’m all right? That I wouldn’t wonder if she was all right?_

He pulled himself up short. When had “they” changed to “she”?

_When you realized it’s that stubborn red-head you love you’re really worried about._

Chakotay sighed, shaking his head in resignation. It was true. Even though he numbered Samantha Wildman among his friends, his concern for her well-being was always, first and foremost, grounded in his position as Voyager’s first officer.

He was Kathryn’ first officer as well. And she numbered first, and best, among his friends. After that, the feelings and emotions that braided their lives together got complicated. The kind of complications that could be both a blessing and a curse when you were the command team charged with getting over 140 crew members home to the Alpha Quadrant. So they carefully built and maintained a status quo of friendship and affection-a relationship Chakotay always pictured as a house of cards. Each card precisely placed; yet the entire structure perilously poised to come tumbling down if one of them added or removed the wrong card.

Nonetheless, for the most part, it worked.

Didn’t it?

Laughter filtering through the trees chased away the elusive answer to that conundrum. Hurrying toward the lake, Chakotay burst onto the sandy, rock-strewn shore. Not far from the water’s edge, Kathryn sat on a small boulder while Samantha stood behind her, running the fingers of one hand through Kathryn’s auburn hair. Something glinted in Samantha’s other hand and Chakotay hurried forward, just in time to hear her say “There, all finished.”

Kathryn rose, turning to face the other woman. “Sooo… how does it-“

“Kathryn… your beautiful hair!” The words were out before Chakotay could stop them.

Both women turned to stare at him.

Then Kathryn smiled lopsidedly and said, “That bad, huh?”

Chakotay reached out as if to touch her hair, but not quite daring. “No, spirits no. Not bad. Just… short… very short,” he stammered.

“Well, considering the mess you made of it, I think it looks very nice. Short and sassy.” Wildman snapped shut the tool she’d been using and handed Chakotay’s knife back to him. “Try not to do any more damage with this, okay?” she joked, grinning up at him. “Chakotay?”

_Damn._ He hadn’t masked his reaction fast enough. Samantha’s grin disappeared, replaced by worried discomfiture.

“Commander, I’m sorry. I only meant it as a-“

“Sam?” The quiet sound of her name coupled with Janeways’s hand on her arm, halted Wildman’s apology. “Would you excuse us, Sam. I’d like to have a word with the commander.”

“Of course. Certainly. I’ll go… collect some more firewood. You can never have enough firewood.”

Wildman fled as if pursued by Vidiians, leaving Chakotay to face an even more persistent adversary: a woman about to speak her mind. Maybe Sam could use some help gathering that firewood.

“Don’t even think about it, you coward. I didn’t help drag your sorry, stranded butt out of the lake in the middle of a storm-off the only rocks for miles, I might add; practically carry you miles back to the shelter-through that same damn storm; and wind up getting sick-thanks for that nasty little bug, by the way-trying to get your body temperature back to normal just so you could beat yourself up with guilt.” Kathryn paused to take a breath, the same hand she’d used on Wildman now gently squeezing his forearm. “You are not to blame for all of this.”

“And I suppose you are?”

“Don’t try to distract me, Chakotay. This isn’t about me.”

She started to pull her hand away, but he lunged forward, his large hands grasping her elbows to hold her in place, his brown eyes snapping with anger. “Oh, really? Can you honestly tell me you don’t blame yourself for us ending up stranded here?”

“Of course I’m responsible. I ordered the mission.”

“Because that’s what a captain does-gives orders. The only mistake you made was in coming along.” Anger battled with remorse. “I never should have allowed that.”

“We’ve been through this, Chakotay. You couldn’t have stopped me.”

“There was always the brig.”

“Not a wise option if you value your life.”

“Not as much as I value yours.” He hung his head. “My job was to protect you, Kathryn.”

“Hey, so you hit a few minor snafus….” One of her hands drifted up warm his breastbone as she stepped closer. “No more wallowing in guilt, remember? Voyager will be able to retrieve the Calypso and help complete our mission. Thanks to you salvaging the survival gear, Sam says we’re all healed and healthy. That will spare all of us an extended visit with the Doctor. And, as for my hair…” She smiled and gave her cropped head a jaunty toss. “My hair will eventually grow out. Though, I kind of like it this length… or maybe just a bit longer. That ponytail was….”

He tried to hold it in, but his chest shaking under her hand was probably a dead giveaway.

“Chakotay?”

He surprised them both by grabbing her waist and spinning the two of them in a circle, all the while laughing like a fool. “Spirits but I love you, Kathryn Janeway.”

That surprised them both even more.

Carefully setting her back on her feet, but keeping his hands on her waist, Chakotay searched Kathryn’s face. The wide-eyed shock he saw there wasn’t a particularly good sign. A vision of a toppling house of cards flashed across his mind’s eye. Damn his careless mouth. He needed to fix this… and fix it fast.

“….vok to …….. team, do ….. read? ……tain Jane……, please ….spond.”

Wishing there was a tree close enough to bang his head on, Chakotay let his hands fall to his sides, allowing Kathryn to step back and tap her commbadge.

“Janeway here. Reception is a bit garbled, but it’s good to hear your voice, Tuvok.”

“As it …. yours, Cap……… One ….ment, please.”

There was a few seconds of silence, then Janeway’s commbadge let out a prolonged squeal louder than a tribble smelling a Klingon. Both command officers winced and covered their ears. Tuvok’s next words, however, were as distinct as if he were standing in front of them. “My apologies, Captain, but I trust reception has cleared?”

“Along with my sinuses. I trust my thanks should be directed at our resident Borg?”

“Indeed, but are you ill, Captain?”

“I’m fine, Tuvok. We’re all fine….”

Listening to Kathryn blithely fill in Voyager’s acting captain on the away team’s situation, Chakotay couldn’t help but wonder at her sudden cheerfulness. If she stayed true to form, Tuvok’s interruption would serve as the perfect opportunity for her to do what she always did: ignore what had happened. Oh, she’s smile and talk and spend time with him, but behind those smiling blue eyes would be a clear warning to let it be.

_Resetting the status quo._

Well, it was better than being thrown in the brig. Though, come to think of it, the brig might be the spot to be once B’Elanna learned he’d crashed another shuttle. Not to mention after explaining to one very unsympathetic Vulcan how he allowed the crew member he was charged with protecting to be nearly electrocuted, seriously wounded, almost drowned-not once but twice, and, lastly, to fall ill. Maybe he could throw himself in the brig. Surely Kathryn wouldn’t deny….

Was she smirking at him? And what was that she was telling Tuvok?

“… a rather pleasant camping trip. I haven’t slept this peacefully… or comfortably in years.”

Without thinking, he reached out, pressing a hand to her forehead. She wasn’t feverish. Though he was starting to get a bit warm as she ducked under his arm and closed the distance between them. Must be all the extra oxygen getting to her head. Of their own volition, his hands came up to slide into that cap of red-gold silk, gently tilting her head so their eyes met. Yes, there was definitely a demented look in her eyes. Wickedly demented.

“What’s… ” The breathy catch in Kathryn’s voice gave rise to Chakotay’s own wicked expression. She cleared her throat and tried again, “What’s your ETA, Tuvok?”

“ETA at your location is approximately six point three hours.”

“Very good, Commander. We’ll be ready. Janeway out.”

“Kathryn?”

Finished with her conversation, Kathryn’s hands had slipped around Chakotay’s neck. “Is there a problem, Chakotay?”

“Nooo….” Her lips nuzzling his neck didn’t make thinking easy. “No, problem. Just a question.”

“Yes.”

“Huh?”

“Yes, I love you, too.”

“I was going to ask why.”

“Same answer.”

“Could you elaborate a bit?”

“I thought I was.”

Chakotay took a step back and gently captured Kathryn’s wandering hands, lacing his fingers through hers and using their clasped hands to put some space between their bodies. “Kathryn, as much as I’m enjoying this, shouldn’t we talk?”

“You’re worried about upsetting the status quo.”

“Aren’t you? I mean, just because I temporarily lost my head…”

“Did you mean it?”

He wasn’t going to lie to her. “Yes, but-“

Her fingers on his lips hushed him. “You may have lost your head just moments ago, Chakotay, but I lost my heart ages ago.” She saw his reaction. “We both did… and then turned around and hid that love away for a lot of reasons… reasons that maybe don’t hold up anymore?”

“I know I’m tired of holding cold, lonely rationale instead of a warm, responsive body.”

“So just any old warm body will do? Or do you have a particular-“

He pulled her close, his lips making the answer to that question impressively clear.

This time, they were interrupted by a throat being cleared. Turning their heads, they found Samantha Wildman watching them, looking like a cat who’d just been presented with a large bowl of her favorite food.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am, sir, but I thought I heard something on my commbadge. A few garbled words and then a squeal like a terrified Talaxian… and, believe me, that’s not a pretty sound.”

Expecting Kathryn to pull away as if she’d been scalded, Chakotay loosened his hold on her, schooling his features to hide his disappointment. She surprised him, however. Pressing close, she gave him a quick kiss before easing out of his arms and turning to Sam.

“Commander Tuvok just contacted us, Ensign. Voyager will be in orbit in just over six hours.”

Samantha’s smile deepened at the good news. “Your orders, Captain?”

Janeway smiled in return. “Since I haven’t been officially reinstated, I’m going to pass that question along to the commander. Commander?”

“Who… what?” Chakotay was still a bit off balance. “Orders… right. Other than gathering together our gear and dismantling our camp, there isn’t a lot for us to do until Voyager arrives. Once we’re back onboard, preferably after we’ve had a chance to clean up and eat a decent meal, there is our survey mission to complete. Voyager still needs to resupply her resources, and I, for one, would like to find out if this planet was worth all the trouble.”

He paused, noticing the amused look two women were exchanging. _Well, you are rambling like a bad imitation of a green Harry Kim._ Sheepishly, he cleared his throat, “Let’s concentrate on gathering our gear and dismantling our camp for now.”

“Commander? Like you said, we have a lot of time until Voyager arrives,” spoke up Wildman, “and it’s a warm, sunny day. I think a walk by the lake would do you and Crewman Janeway a world of good after being cooped up in that shelter recovering… speaking as your nurse, that is, sir. I’ll head back to camp and start gathering our gear and tidying up. Maybe start the fire going again… burn up some of that firewood I collected.”

“Samantha…” Janeway started to protest, but the other woman cut her off.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave plenty of work for both of you. Now go on,” Samantha directed as she headed back toward camp.

“Not even some help with the fire?” Chakotay called after her.

Samantha shook her head, her final words drifting back over her shoulder. “Starts one little fire and the man thinks he’s an expert.”

He tried to look insulted, but, judging by her laughter, Kathryn wasn’t buying it. Giving it up as a lost cause, he took her hand and they set off along the shore. They walked in silence for a time until Chakotay suddenly chuckled and stopped to lean in close. “Actually, I’m quite good at starting some fires.” He waggled his eyebrows at Kathryn. “Would you be interested in a demonstration?”

“Definitely,” she answered, her wanton smile sending a rush of blood to his groin.”Though you aren’t getting any more of my hair,” she added, thumping him playfully on the chest before stepping into his arms.

* * *

Their gear was neatly piled and waiting on the lakeshore; their campsite so thoroughly dismantled you had to look very closely to find any trace of the away team having been there. Out in the lake, a team from Voyager installed transport enhancers on the sunken shuttle, preparing it for salvaging. Somewhere in the skies overhead, a trio of shuttles under the command of Lieutenant Tom Paris flew a series of low-atmosphere passes, completing the survey of the planet. Chakotay hadn’t liked being overruled about that, but, eager to see her daughter and suddenly bone-weary from their eventful away mission, Samantha fully agreed with a reinstated Captain Janeway’s decision. Sooner or later, the commander would also see the wisdom in that decision. Most likely sooner if the captain had anything to do with convincing him.

Samantha smiled to herself. Now that, if nothing else, was worth every minute of this lousy, botched mission. And about time. She just hoped they wouldn’t let worries about what the crew was going to think get in the way of their happiness. They hadn’t hidden their change in status from her, but Samantha did notice how easily they reverted to complete professionalism in their interactions once other crew members were present.

Then again… _They are the command team-not lovers on some holiday._ Not that she doubted they were lovers. The silly grins that kept appearing on their faces once they returned from their walk were all the proof she needed.

Her own grin widened. _I’m going to make a killing in Paris’s betting pools._ “Rations, lots and lots of replicator rations, oh yeah,” she chanted aloud, throwing in a little hip action just for the fun of it.

“Samantha?”

_Oh, nuts._ Heat rising in her face, Wildman slowly turned around to find the command team approaching.

“Everything all right, Ensign?” Despite their concern, they looked preoccupied.

“Right as rain, Captain.” _Once I resuscitate my dignity._

“Voyager to away team. Standing by for transport.”

“Acknowledged, Tuvok. Just… finishing our preparations. I’ll signal when we’re ready.”

“Understood, Captain. Voyager out.”

Janeway’s eyes met Samantha’s. “Samantha, about what we dis-“

So that was the problem. “I gave you my word, Captain. When the two of you are ready to tell the crew, you will tell the crew,” she replied resolutely, waiting a beat before adding, “Until then, I have it on good authority discretion is often the better part of valor.” Her eyes twinkled with merriment. “Wouldn’t the two of you agree?”

Chakotay bellowed.

Janeway managed a bit more constraint, “Oh… good… lord.” It did take her two tries to hit her commbadge. “Energize.”

As the away team disappeared in the coruscating veil of Voyager’s transporter, it wouldn’t have surprised Wildman to know an echo of pealing laughter remained, floating out over the calm, blue-green waters of the lake.

***The End***


End file.
